Shoulda Got a Puppy
by Stumble
Summary: Road-trip fresh out of Paradise Playland, and Columbus thinks about what the world has become, and says a few things he shouldn't that make Tallahassee hit the breaks. One-shot.


With all these humans turning to zombies... you kind of lose faith in the ones who ain't. Weither you're watching your best friend bite take a fruity-gushers' bite of out your neighbor, or witnessing the miracle of life as your mother claws open her own womb and tears out the living thing inside her, you cant shake another man's hand the same way.

You dont know if he's going to bite it off like some rabid Easter Bunny. Humanity is some zombi-ity.

Now-a-days, if you've just seen a man chew off of the nose of an old lady, you roll your eyes and keep walking. You've become desensitized to anything bad that happens to anyone but yourself. You do it because you cant trust anyone, or anything.

In Present-Day ZombieLand, it's more gut-wrenching to see a puppy get run over by a car than a little girl fall off her big-wheel and eat torn apart by her big-brother.

Maybe that's why Tallahassee refrenced his own son as a puppy.

I dont blame him. Your own son might be the next Zombizilla; animals you trust- like puppies and kitties- it makes it easier to think about, not a litle boy with blood dripping from his lips and purple, swollen eyes with the dark intent to pull your guts out.

Speaking of guts, I cant help but feel proud of myself for what I did back at Pacific Playland.

Scratch that- Tallahassee deserves all the credit. He put on a one-man suicidal mission to save our asses.

...Fuck him. He knew he wasnt going to die. He's just trying to hog all the attention, be the hero. Let me start over.

I did a ballin' job back there, and I deserve a pat on that back. I conquored my fear and busted the skull of that poka-dotted red-nosed basterd! I saved the world, and got the girl of my dreams! I-

"You've been awful quiet ever since we left DisneyLand," says Tallahassee, startling me from my thoughts. I look at him. He gives me an odd look, one hand allowing the steering-wheel to burn across his lose hand as he steers to the left. In the back-seat, Wichita and Little Rock snuggle against eachother, their seatbelts securely around their mid-section in case of a sudden and violent head-on collusion with the car.

I open my mouth, trying to form words other than the ones I am thinking to myself. I twist my head around to look at the babes, then at the road, but Tallhase speaks up, casting a glance to the back.

"You look pretty tired yourself," he says. "I thought me and you'd have some bonding time as we drive to a new future, but if you just want a nap, then I guess-"

I shake my head quickly, saying even faster, "No, no. I dont- uh..." I give him an assuring smile. "I'm fine."

"Fine like your woman's behind?"

"E-excuse me, what?"

"I knew you two were going to get hitched the moment I saw her."

"Oh, right," I say cooly. I lick my lips. "Was it before or after they pretended to be bitten?"

"Correction on your behalf: Little Rock was the only one "bitten.""

"Wait- are you changing the subject?"

"Are you?" he asks with a hidden smile.

I shift in my seat. "No, but I'm going to right now!"

We are steadily raising our voices, but I dont think the girls will wake up. They're pretty tired.

"Let me hear it!" requests Tallahassee.

"Why did you-" I hesitate, then one word pops into my mind and doesnt go away- like the scent of a freshly popped can of Pringles: pig. "Why did you call me a pig back there?" I demand.

"Back where?"

"You know where."

"Back at the Barnyard?"

"Back at Paradise Playland!"

The older man shurgs. "Cant a guy give another man a complliment?"

I am infuriated fro reasons that surpass my own understanding. The words that spit out of my mouth of ones I will forever regret. "Oh, so I get the honored role of being a pig, while- while you're precious Buck is the pick of the litter?"

Tallahassee stomps his foot onto the brake, sending me flying forward in my seat, the belt cutting into my chest, my head snapping forward, nearly hitting the dashboard.

Thank God for safety-lock.

I recover and look behind me at the girls.

They're still alseep.

I hear the distant sound of a seatbelt being unbuckled, then a firm grip latches onto my left shoulder. I yelp and turn with wild eyes at my would-be assassin.

Tallahassee leans close to me, his powerful frame making my inside turn cold with fear; this man, if he wanted to, can kill me with his bear hands.

Hands!

With nervous fingers, I clasp my hands and beg for forgiveness. "I-I spoke out of line, I didn't know what I was saying, I'm sorry if I hurt you feelings!"

"No." says the older man. He squishes up closer, and for a moment I feel almost aroused, thinking he's turned on by me. Instead, he unbuckles my seatbelt, leans further over, and opens my door.

I look outside will a sheepish expression, then back at the man. "Wha-what are you doing?" I ask, already knowing. He was planning on abandoning me. "Y-you dont have to do this." I say quickly. "I'm sorry, and I'll make it up to you-"

"No," he repeates heavily. "No, you're sorry I'm mad at you. You're sorry because you realize your words are getting you into trouble. You're sorry you're bad of lying." Tallahassee uses his booted-foot to push me out onto the road, then shuts and locks the door before I can fully stand.

"No, please dont do this!" I urge. "You dont want to, really! Y-you need me, and I need you!" I come up with at least ten more good lines that should have melted the ice from his cold gaze, but once he decides he's heard enough of my bullshit, he says, "I've heard enough of your bullshit." then promptly drives away, spinning the tires just enough to kick dirt into my eyes.

"Yeah, thats really mature!" I shout, my voice breaking. I stand watching the tail lights turn to darkness, then I realie how utterly lost I am. Both mentally and physically.

Tallahsse was right.

I'm not sorry.

Anything I've ever done is for the good of myself; the girl was to keep me happy, keep me from feeling lonely. I felt I needed her because I knew there was probably no one else left alive.

My role as 'hero' was to earn praise for my ever-so-wavering ego. I crave attention, just like every secretly depressed person: All they want is to be accepted and loved above anyone else. To be special- but in a good way.

Maybe Tallahassee is right: I am a bad liar. But I do need him; I wasnt lying about that. He's my father figure I never had. Without him, who do I look to?

Myself?

Heh, yeah right.

Nobody ever likes themself, thats why they make friends who will make them feel better.

But in this day-and-age...with ZombiLand's population dropping, and humanity near extinction, who has time for friends? Not like you can trust them.

I turn at last from the direction of where Tallahassee vanished, and face the road from where I came.

I have no future anymore. My life is empty, and I have no friends, nor will I ever.

ZombiLand is...full of zombies.

It would be easier to make friends with a puppy.

...

End


End file.
